


Girls Like Cars and Money

by Darkmagyk



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - socialite, F/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkmagyk/pseuds/Darkmagyk
Summary: When Sansa admits to her parents that she's been seeing one of the family's bodyguards for almost the past year, her mother is determined to find another sort of man for Sansa. The right sort of man.It does not go as expected.





	Girls Like Cars and Money

Jon hadn't actually wanted to do it this way “I feel like I’m throwing you to the wolves.”

But Sansa had insisted.

They had waited until Jon was about to take two weeks off to visit his family before they told her parents. They waited ten months, to make sure it was going to well and truly stick and be worth the commotion it would cause. 

And then they had sat down together and told her parents. 

Sansa Stark. Heiress, Model, socialite. Darling of page six. The most recognized debutant in the North, was dating one of her family's bodyguards. 

Ned had just looked at them with his long, solemn face, and a small frown. But Catelyn had looked like she had a frog in her mouth. 

Before she had started yelling. About ethics and good choices and possibly about Sansa’s historically terrible taste in men. She hadn’t even got around to actually firing Jon when Sansa had made him leave or else miss his plane.

She’d planned it as such.

Once he was gone, Catelyn had seemed to run out of a little bit of steam, but she’d made it clear she was not done making her feelings known before leaving the room. 

“Don’t fire Jon, Dad.” She’d said when it was just she and Ned. “It's not actually unethical, its the main reason he’s mostly been with Arya and Bran for the last year.”

“I’m not going to fire Jon,” He said after a long pause. “But Sansa, I don’t think you’ve considered…”

“He’s a good man.” Sansa implored, “A good northern man. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted for me. Didn’t you complain about that when I was dating Harry, or Joff.” Ned winced at the memory of both of those things. 

“Jon is a good man,” He agreed, “I… I like Jon a great deal, you know that.” 

“I do, which is why it isn’t a problem.” She said. 

Ned just sighed. “When you get home we can all talk about it.” He finally said, “You and me and Jon. Together.”

It was as good as she was going to get. 

Then she’d had Jory drive her to Arya’s and gotten too drunk on the couch and bemoaned the fact that for all her rebellion Arya Stark had found a boyfriend in Gendry Baratheon. Son of their father’s best friend.

Because Arya thought that Jon was the best decision Sansa’s ever made she helpfully pointed out that Gendry had left his prestigious engineering program to weld together race cars. 

Robb just responded to her disjointed drunk texts with a kind of bemused support, like their mother would just come around to Sansa Stark’s decision to date a bodyguard instead of the heir to some old family and wealthy company, or at the very least an up and coming actor. 

When she woke up on Arya’s couch with a hangover. Her mother was there with aspirin, a suitcase, and her passport.

***

When they checked into their hotel in Meereen, Sansa got some idea what’s going on.

While Jon’s gone, Catelyn was determined to shake away what she seemed to see as Sansa’s northern complacency. 

And she’s fighting that with a whirlwind vacation in The Bay of Dragons.

And Sansa’s sorority sister. 

Rhaenys Targaryen and Sansa had not actually been at King’s College together. She’d been Margery’s big sister before Margery was Sansa’s.

But now she had the perfect guy for Sansa. 

It was like her mother shaken the mutual acquaintance phone tree, and Rhaenys was the first person to respond with a man of adequate standing for someone like Sansa Stark. Maybe she should just have been happy that Catelyn found someone before she called Aunt Lysa, or she might be in the Vale right now, on some sort of awkward date with nineteen year old Robin of all people. 

Thought gods knows how either of them can think Sansa would want anything to do with someone call Jaehaerys Targaryen. 

“He’s got the whole broody and handsome thing going.” Rhaenys promises while they are getting their nails done. 

“So is the guy I’m seeing.” Sansa reminded her. 

“Yeah, but my brother was a war hero.”

“So was my boyfriend.” Sansa says, even though in truth she only has the vaguest idea about Jon’s military career. He’d gone to the Westeros Military Academy and he’d mentioned his tours. But after being stabbed (she _had_ seen the scars) he’d left for bodyguarding. Still, she can’t imagine him not being a hero, her Jon.

Rhaenys makes an soft, judgemental sound at that. And Sansa wishes her nails weren't still drying, because she can’t text Jon in frustration. 

***

 _ **I hate my sister**_. Jon texts as she hid in a dressing room a few days later. Her mother and Rhaenys were waiting for her to emerge, resplendent in gray silk. 

_**Why** _ **?**

**_She’s trying to set me up with a friend of her’s._ **

Sansa frowned. She knew that Jon had two older siblings, Rey and Egg. And that they had a weird relationship, but that he loves them just the same. 

It hadn’t occurred to her that Jon’s family might not approve of her. But now it does. 

Jon’s a salt of the Earth type guy. His family must be too. And what must they think of Sansa Stark, heiress, model, daughter of a lord. 

Probably nothing good. 

Don’t get defensive, she tells herself, and instead types, _**A friend from school is trying to do the same with me**_. She doesn’t mention her mother, because Jon’s always been kind of terrified of her, or her sorority sister, because that’s just the attention to class differences she wants to avoid right now. 

_**We’ll have some good stories to tell each other when we see each other again.**_ Jon offers after several minutes, like he, too, was trying to figure out what it all meant. 

But it's such a hopeful sentiment to land on, and it fills Sansa’s chest with the same warm sensation as one of Jon’s hugs. 

When she comes out of the dressing room, Rhaenys and her mother clap. She does look great, but she only buys the dress because she knows she can find the perfect place to wear it with Jon when she’s back home, and she knows it will make his jaw drop. 

***

She and her mother have dinner alone the next night. Sansa and Catelyn have always been close, but the matter of Jon feels heavy. And right before they’d been seated he’d texted her. 

_**My sister can’t believe I met a girl through work. Her face might be the best I’ve ever see**_ **n**. It was meant to be light and sweet, but it weighs in her mind.

“Mom, I know you and Rhaenys mean well, but…” How does she really explain that after the shit she’s gone through, she just wants a nice, normal northern boy. 

Jon’s not even that objectionable, really. He might work for the Starks, but he only got the job because he and Robb and gone to the same elite boarding school together, and were friends. Jon have been a scholarship student or something after his mom died, she thought he might have mentioned, but still. And then he’d gone to the military academy, which was bloody hard to get into. And which Sansa’s Uncle Benjen and Great Uncle Brynden had both done. He’d been an army officer. He was perfectly presentable in polite society. She hadn’t picked him up on the wrong side of the Wintertown tracks, or found him in some dive bar, smoking and playing pool with his motorcycle gang. 

But people like the Targaryens and the Starks, they bring with them family expectations and the remnants of dynastic politics. It feels like they are using Sansa to make a marriage alliance sometimes. 

And she wanted to be a princess as a girl, but not like this. 

She doesn’t know how to put those thoughts into words that her mother will understand. 

But Catelyn just reaches across the table and grasps Sansa’s hand. “I know that Joffrey and Harry were, less than ideal.” That was putting it mildly. They’d both been perfectly approved by her family, until the bruises and the serial cheating. “And I know we pushed you towards those two because we thought they were just the kinds of boys you wanted.” Catelyn sighed, “But this is difference, I promise.” She smiles, “I didn’t just choose Meereen and Rhaenys because she was the first one to answer my calls. Jaehaerys sounds great. He went to good schools, is a highly decorated military officer,” like Jon but better was the clear subtext their, “He’s not working for his father or jet setting about, now that he’s done with the military.” He’s got a real day job. “And he’s half northern, too.”

“Rhaenys isn’t…”

“He’s her half brother.” Catelyn explained. “I’m pretty sure his mother’s maiden name was actually Stark. She might be a distant cousin of your father’s or something.” 

The last part was maybe a little weird, but...in a treatorus part of her mind, a picture had begun to take shape. A picture of of a man with Rhaenys’ face shape, deep purple eyes, and norther dark hair. A picture that wasn’t all that bad. 

Sansa just glared at her mother, because she can’t glare at herself for the thought. “Good for him.” She said finally, trying to recall some of the recent lessons with her acting coach. In truth he sounded, good. Not great, not perfect, and certainly not like the man she loved now, but like... like the kind of guy her mother or Margery or someone should have troughted out a year ago when she was trying to ignore her feeling the one of the guards, or maybe in another years time, when he relationship with Jon ended. 

_If_ , if her relationship with Jon ended. 

She wasn’t going to start having doubts now. 

“I need to powder my nose.” She decided, standing up at that moment, “I’ll be back.” Her Mom at least had the decency to look guilty when she walked away. 

She walked into the ladies room and nearly throw herself on the couch. The attendant eyed her warily for a moment, and then decided to ignore her. 

_**I really love you**_. She texted Jon back. 

But his sister doesn’t like that he’s with one of his snooty clients, apparently. While Jaehaerys Targaryen’s sister has her fly half way across the world to meet him. 

Does that mean something. 

Are they doomed. 

Do they have incompatible families and lifestyles and social circles. 

She’s met a few of Jon’s old army buddies. Tormund and Val, Edd and Grenn. They’d seemed to like her well enough, but she can’t pretend she didn’t feel out of place in the pub they met at. 

And she’s never taken Jon for lunch with Jeyne or Beth or even Mya, let alone someone like Margery. 

_**I love you too, I may or may not have found you the perfect souvenir for when I get back.** _

**_What?_ **

He sends back a picture of a plain brown paper bag on a black wooden table. 

She can’t glean a lot about it, other then it's not that large. 

If he’d been Harry or Joff, it would have been jewelry. 

But Jon’s never gotten her jewelry.

She’d told him, before they’d even gotten well and truly together, that she was sick of pretty jewelry in the place of decent actions. 

He’s apparently taken that to heart. 

He was more likely to give her stuffed animals or lemon cakes. Which she loved just as much. 

But looking at the size of his little package, she did think, wistfully, that a bracelet or some earrings would be nice. She couldn’t wear a stuffed wolf around her wrist, and casually brag at lunch that her boyfriend had gotten it for her. 

By the time she returned to her mother, she was having a crisis of faith. 

But as she left the restaurant, she got another text. This time Jon’s face, with a dopey grin. He was wearing a t-shirt she’d gotten him. One with a wolf print she’d designed, based on a shared story they’d both heard as a child. An hold northern fairy tale about skinchanging kings and queens. 

And she went to bed in her five star hotel knowing that everything would be alright. 

***

Jaehaerys lost his appeal, and Sansa just leaned into her vacation. She ate and shopped with her mother and Rhaenys and Jon texted her loved her every night, and every morning. 

But at lunch, the morning before the party where she was suppose to meet the utterly unappealing Jaehaerys, Jon sent another text. 

_**I have something kind of big to talk to you about when I get home.** _ **It said. I _t's maybe a little too much to talk about over text, but just, some things were settled and it doesn’t seem fair not to tell you._**

She didn’t know there were things to settle. 

_**Everything ok with your family?** _

**_I haven’t killed Rey, yet. Which is kind of a miracle. But Egg wants to meet you._ **

Sansa let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Meeting the family. Meeting the family is big and scary, but if it was being discussed, then whatever needed to be settled probably wasn’t the end of their relationship. 

She just sent a smiley face back, because the stylist wanted her to stop moving her head, so she can get her hair to lay just right. 

Sansa kept up an extensive beauty routine on her own. But by the end of the day, she’s been primped, plucked, plumped, and painted every which way. The last time she’d been through this much preparation had been for televised runway show she’d done for Olenna Tyrell. 

But the effect, she knew, as she sat in the limo with Rhaenys, was pretty impressive. 

She’d have to get a picture at some point and send it to Jon. He would appreciate this much effort. 

Rhaenys’ Aunt owned three luxury hotels in Meereen. Sansa was staying at one, but the gala, for some museum or artist or gallery or something, was at one of the other ones, the Giant Pyramid in the middle of the city. 

The Ballroom, when they got in, absolutely sparkled. 

It looked like something out of a movie, and Sansa made a note to ask someone if the climax from that one princess movie she liked was filmed here. Because she thought the molding looked familiar. 

Rhaenys’ Aunt when she and Sansa were introduced, was actually younger than her, and looked more like a Targaryen proper then Rhaenys does, with silver hair and purple eyes. She eyed Sansa a little bit like she wanted to eat her. It was terrifying but not actually unpleasant. 

“This is the girl I found for Jaehaerys,” Rhaenys explained. Sansa took a gulp of her second glass champagne. “He’s been talking about his girlfriend all week,” Daenerys call me Dany responded, she eyed Sansa again, “But if anyone’s going to be able to distract him....”

“I have a boyfriend,” Sansa reminded them. 

Dany grinned, “Pity. When my dear nephew finally turned you down, and he will, nothing personal but he’s got a lot of thoughts about honor where women are concerned, I was going to offer to help dry your tears.”

“You are married,” Rhaenys muttered, with a long suffering look that said Dany had made such a suggestion before.

“And he also thinks she’s beautiful.” Dany said, “I’ll catch up with you two later.” And she glided off. 

It took Sansa nearly 20 minutes to find a way to remove herself from Rhaenys’ side. 

And she made her way straight for one of the bars. 

“Can I get a lemon drop, please?” She requested sweetly. She glanced to her mate at the bar, nodding but not really seeing some handsome man in a nice suit that were a dime a dozen at this kind of event. 

She glanced behind her, wondering which of the other handsome men in nice suits was meant for her. Before something dawned on her and her head whipped back around. Her bar mate was staring at her, his mouth slightly agape.

“Jon.” She said, wide eyed with shock, “What are you doing here.” She barely had the presence of mind to thank the bar tender when she handed over Sansa’s lemon drop and Jon’s old fashion. 

They just stared at each other for several long minutes, while the bartender tried to ignore the tentinon brewing 3 feet in front of her, until someone else wanted to get to the bar, and they shuffled off to the side awkwardly.

They set their drinks down on one of the high little tables for just such a purpose and didn’t speak. 

Sansa had never seen Jon quite like this. When he was working day to day for the Starks, he wore the standard issued grey polo and khaki pants. On their down time together, he reverts to jeans and flannel over t-shirts. On the occasion he had to accompany a Stark to a particularly formal event, he had a suit that he got off the rack at a nicer department store. She’d joked that he cleaned up nicely, of course, but it was nothing like this. 

The suit was a deep black, and clearly cut specifically for him from the way it framed his broad chest and tapered down. The shirt underneath is black too, and he’s forgone a tie in favor of having the top few buttons undone. It's the kind of thing Sansa would have gotten onto Robb about, not being formal enough for the event. But boy does it work on Jon. 

The suit has a little pocket, and a square of scarlet silk pokes out, matching the ruby cufflinks. But it's the rolex that really throws her. She’d been looking at them recently, a gift for Robb. Everything sets off his grey eyes and short brown hair. He looks exquisite. And he looks like someone worth a lot of money. 

She opened her mouth to ask, something, but no sound came out. And after several long moments, he looked a little miserable that she wasn’t going to be the one start whatever had to happen next.

They both looked so dower that it wasn’t surprising that someone interrupted them. The interloper was another Targaryen, judging by his silver hair and violet eyes. Jaehaerys. He wasn’t unhandsome, though he didn’t have an ounce of the northern look she’d imagined. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit and a slightly ostentatious red silk suit under it, classic Targaryen colors. But next to Jon he didn’t look like anything special. Just another pretty boy 

Sansa was surprised when he zeroed in on Jon, and not her. He threw an arm around Jon’s shoulders with a grin.

“You’re sulking in your drink,” He said, his accent decidedly southern Westerosi, “No one is surprised. But I have good news. I finally got Rey to spill about the girl she’s dreamed up for you.”

“Oh Gods,” Jon groaned, bringing his face to his hands, and hiding frown. 

“Don’t be like that,” Jaehaerys said, “I know you, and she knows you, she didn’t just go and pick someone at random. She’s a northern red head, because we know you have a type.”

 _Ygritte_ , Sansa’s mind supplied, Jon’s other serious girlfriend. Sansa knew all about that. But not a single bit else of this made since. 

Jon seemed confused too, he looked up and stared at the interloper like he had a second head, “Who on earth did she find?” He seemed the genuinely want to know. 

But then their third wheel had seen Sansa, really registered her as something other then just another warm body. He took her in appreciatively, his eyes lingering where the dress dipped and clung. Jon elbowed him in the stomach, hard. 

He let out one a little breathless laugh, and raised an eyebrow at Jon, “Seriously, you spend all week talking about your girl _from work_.” He says the words with a mocking kind of air, “And you get distracted so easily.” 

He grinned at Sansa, just this side of a lear, “That isn’t a dig at you, of course. You are more than worth it, it's just our friend here is normally holier than thou about his honor.” He gave his Jon’s arm a little punch. “Good for you.” 

“Egg,” was Jon’s warning response. 

Sansa frowned, Egg was Jon’s brother. But their was not possible way this man was Jon’s. They looked less alike then Sansa and Arya. Arya and Jon looked much more closely related them the two of them. 

There was a little out of nowhere shrink, and then Rhaenys was running towards them. Her black curls coming undone, a wide grin on her face. 

“Oh this is just great.” She turned to Sansa with a bounce in her step. “You’ve met,” then her eyes narrowed at Jon, “Did you properly introduce yourself.” She let out a beleaguered sigh, without waiting for an answer. “Of course you didn’t.”

“Sansa, this is my brother, Jaehaerys Targaryen,” Jon seemed to growl a little at this, “Who goes by Jon,” She stuck her tongue out at him, “For some reason.”

“Because its a real, human name, as opposed to whatever Jaehaerys is suppose to be.”

“It's a family name,” Egg said good naturedly. 

“That in no way makes it not terrible.” 

Egg turned back to Sansa, holding out a pale, soft hand, so different from Jon’s grasped tightly around his drink “So you’re Sansa Stark. Aegon Targaryen, I’m the superior brother.” Aegon said it with a laugh, but something about that way Jon’s entire face tensed, and Rhaenys’ grin fell that made Sansa wonder. 

“Oh don’t be like that,” Aegon said, clearly noticing “Its true. He’s a security guard.” His tone was mocking.

“Bodyguard, I don’t work in the mall.” Jon corrected gruffly.

“Stop it both of you,” Their sister said, “I get one of the notorious beauties of Westerosi to come to this lovely gala, and you two just bicker.” She gave Sansa a wry smile that seemed to say _brothers, can’t live with them_. “Its like I told you,” She smiled fondly at Jon, “He went to the Westeros Military Academy and was an officer and all that. He has metals and everything. But after he got out he just wanted some time to find himself.” Jon groaned and put his head in his hand again. “Don’t be like that, I’m just trying to explain. He’s only be doing that for two years, and next fall he’s going to start an MBA program.”

At that Jon sits up straight, squares his shoulders and lets out one long breath. His frown is replaced by a not unapproachable blank look. “Thank you for introducing us.” He said, with a bland politeness, “We're going to get to know each other now.” 

“You could…”

He cut his sister off, “You can go spy from that table if you want,” he pointed at one across the room, but with a good view of them. “If she throws a drink in my face, you’ll see it.”

“You're not interesting enough to get a woman to do that,” Aegon said, “She’s more likely to fall asleep.” 

“Then you can watch that.” It ended the discussion, and Aegon and Rhaenys left again.

“I didn’t know she was a Theta Kappa.” Jon said, when they were out of earshot

“What?” It seemed like the least important thing. 

“I didn’t know she was a Theta Kappa, or, I mean I have probably been told, but I forgot or didn’t care to remember it.” 

So awkward silence was going to be replaced with awkward smalltalk. Alright, Sanas was a society lady, she could awkward smalltalk in her sleep. 

“I didn’t hear her mention it.” 

“Oh, she didn’t, but earlier this week she told me the girl she wanted to set me up with had been in her sorority. I know you were a Theta Kappa. So she was one too.” He remembers her sorority, even when he doesn’t remember his sisters. That has to be something.

But on the other hand, he’s apparently a motherfucking Targaryen, not some penniless ex soldier living on a job that was charity from an old school friend. There's lying, and then there's whatever this is. Her boyfriend Jon is Jaehaerys Targaryen. 

And Sansa’s not even the kind of heiress that can throw a fic about it in the public. Which is its own kind of disappointment.

Having proven, at least, that he paid attention to some of her college exploits, he glances at the table Rhaenys and Aegon had gone to watch him from. 

“Sorry, they um...they can...they mean well.” He settled on, but it was almost like a question, like he wasn’t really sure himself. And honestly, Sansa can see why. Jon had shared that he had siblings, that he loved them, that he didn’t see them very often. But he’d also given no indication he wanted to close that distance. 

Sansa has three younger siblings herself, but the condescension that both of Jon’s paid him was more than she’d ever think to use at even Arya, at even little Rickon. Dismissive and judgemental. And they didn’t even try to hide it from a mere acquaintance, one who they had hoped to set him up with. 

Jon’s not actually a terribly melancholy person, but he his prone to bits of brooding. Sansa often found it charming, especially when he had the right of it. It was annoying that she felt that way now. 

But then he smiled, “Though if I’d know Rey’s sorority maybe I’d have figured out it was you. And then we could have gone to dinner and the beach and everything.” Its breezy and casual, like she hasn’t caught him in the biggest lie. 

“How has it never come up that you’re a Targaryen?” She finally had to say. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Not once have you told me that your name is Jaehaerys Targaryen,” She repeated. That his family is one of the richest in the entire country and beyond. 

“Because it's a terrible name, and each time I look into changing it I get hours long lectures about how its the only connection my father had with me and it just not worth it.” His eyebrows knit together, “But its on all of my credit cards and you’ve used them to buy dinner.” 

Which was true, mostly. Jon often gave her his cards to pay for take out, and she basically always paid herself, because she’d been under the impression he was poor. 

“You were raised by a single mother.” She offered, he brought that up all the time. 

“Yeah,” He glanced at his siblings, “Their my half siblings, their mother is a saint who puts up with Rhaegar far more than she should.”

“But…” Sansa tries to fit it into place in her mind. Jon was raised by a single mother, but grew up in a nice area of White Harbor and had more than enough trips to amusement parks and fancy birthday parties and family vacation to fulfills any dream childhood. He went to the same exclusive boarding school as Sansa’s brothers. 

It was, she reflected, staring into his concerned, confused eyes, entirely possible that she had just missed the obvious signs of a rich kid on a trip to find himself. 

“But how did I not realize that your dad was Rhaegar Targaryen?” Sansa finally asked, struck a little dumb.

“I try not to realize it as much as I can.” He said, he glanced around, “He’s probably around here somewhere gloating.”

“Did he make a good business deal?” Sansa asked, she looked around too. Rhaegar Targaryen is really more well known for his youthful career as a singer/actor/teen idle then his family's company, Targaryen industries does persist. 

“In a manner of speaking. He wore me down.”

“Your sister said something about an MBA?” 

“Yeah. I use to be the spare, you know, so no one put up to much of a fight when I went to the WMA. But then Aegon flunked out of business school regardless of how much money was thrown at it. And I came back with a distinguished service cross.” He sounded exasperated, and Sanas reached across the table to take his hand. Callused, despite the manicure, a sharp contrast to his brother. “I suddenly look good on paper. Or I will, once I have a business degree to present to the board.” 

“Are you moving to King’s Landing.” _Something kind of big to talk about_. Because Sansa can’t go back to the south, she’d tried that once and it had ended with a black eye and scars on her back that Jon liked to kiss in bed. But she isn’t sure she’s up to loose him, either. 

The look on Jon’s face perfectly replicates how Sanas feels about everything south of Riverrun, and she can’t help but burst out laughing at it. 

“I called Robb about the program at Winter University yesterday.” Jon said, “And my Uncle knows some people. I have no plans on moving south of the Neck.” he paused “And I tendered my resignation, I won’t be on guard duty for the Starks of Winterfell after the 15th.”

Sansa comes up short. That hadn’t been the part of any kind of plan, Jon leaving his job. 

“What does that mean for us?” She asked after a moment.

“That when I you out in Torrehen Square for our 9 month anniversary, I won’t feel like I’m doing anything unethical.” 

That’s the right answer. 

Sansa grinned. 

Jon frowned, his eyes glued over her shoulder “Is your mother here?”

Sansa turned to see her mother coming towards them, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. 

“This was all her plan, she called all of her acquaintances to find a suitable man when she found out I was dating the staff.” She looked Jon up and down and bit her lip in consideration, “I’ll have to thank her for her choice.” 

Jon let out a slightly hoarse laugh at that. 

“Sansa?” came Catelyn’s low voice, “What’s going on?”

Sansa put on her best grin, the one her agent swar was going to get her that next movie, and motioned to Jon. “Mom, this is Rhaenys brother, Jaehaerys Targaryen.” 

Jon held out a hand, and Mom shook it out of social expectations that required no hirer brain function. 

“Just Jon, normally,” he said good naturedly, “I went to high school with Robb.” He added. Like they were meeting for the first time. 

Catelyn didn’t know what to say to that. But Rhaegar Targaryen did. 

“Their you are, son.” He said, clasping Jon on the back like his other son had earlier. “Is this the lovely Miss Stark I’ve heard so much about.” 

He looked nothing like Jon. He didn’t even look that much like his daughterly namesake. But he looked like Rhaegar Targaryen. 

“Yes,” Jon said, “This is Sansa, and this is her mother, Catelyn.” 

Rhaegar’s very handshake was full of charm. It came off as a little much. 

“My son’s recently decided to go to the School of Business at Winter University in your neck of the woods,” He said to Catelyn as way of friendly conversation. 

“Really?” She seemed genuinely interested at that. 

“Yeah, in the fall.” Jon said, “I put in my letter of resignation at work and started my applications.” 

Catelyn intrigued, if not a little confused, “That’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Jon said, and Sansa added, “My brother did that program, Mom, you should tell Rhaegar about it.”

He started peppering her mother with more questions, and Jon and Sansa excused themselves to get a drink. 

As they approached the bar, Sansa took in the party, at all these people, and then at her boyfriend. 

“We should go somewhere else.” She said, clinging to his arm. He glanced around too. 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, following her gaze out one of the pyramid windows at the dark sea water. 

“There's got to be a diner or something open,” She suggested, it was their usual late night choice. 

“I’m sure there is.” Jon agreed, “But on the other hand, this is the hotel I’m staying at, and I have suite and a mini bar right upstairs, all for us.”

They giggled alway way up the elevator. 

***

Two glasses of champagne and a lemon drop were enough to get Sansa well and truly tipsey. She just barely had the presence of mind to text her mother so she wouldn’t worry to much. And judging by the way Jon laughed in the corner of the elevator while sucking on her lower lip, he was too. 

He fumbled with his key card to get them into his suite. And once they fell through the door, they didn’t bother to turn on a light. 

She kicked off both of her heels in the vague direction of the couch and chairs, and through her cluct away to give both her hand easy access to Jon. Who was pulling her towards what must have been the bedroom. 

There had been a mention of the mini bar earlier, but all the alcohol in the world wasn’t worth given a second of this as they stumbled through another door way. 

They only turned it on a bit, so the light was low as she fell backwards on the bed, dragging him down with her by his lapels. 

His weight resting on her felt almost as good as his gun callused hands through the fabric of her gown. He groaped at her hip and her breast as he bit and sucked his way across her jaw and then down her neck. 

She slipped her hands under his suit jacket, her nails racking down the back of the final material of his black shirt. 

She’d gotten the chance to peel Jon out of a suit before, but it was an off the rack number, and she’s been mildly aware, in the back of her mind, that it was likely his only nice suit, and she should try to be careful. She yanked the jacket off from the back, and heard the unmistakable sound of a seam ripping, even if it was small. 

Jon paused, removing his hands from her body so he could take his jacket off _properly_ and threw it without care onto the floor. 

Sansa didn’t approve of this choice, so she didn’t feel at all guilty when she grabbed onto both sides of his open collar, and yanked with all her strength, ripping the neat line of semi-iridescent button, and sending them scattering in the low light. 

“Trying to work out some aggression?” He asked with a grin.

“Trying get better access.” She said. He laughed a little, placing an almost chaste kiss on her lips, before sitting up, though he had the decency to bring him with her. 

But then he pulled away, standing up straight at the edge of the bed, his ripped shirt perfectly framing his well sculpted chest, but hiding his arms, and his trousers hiding most everything else. 

Sansa followed him, sitting up below him, planting her feet firmly on the floor, and then glaring up. 

He removed his shirt, but before Sansa could decide how she wanted to take care of the pants, he sank to his knees before her. 

A tried and true Jon classic.

He started with her feet. He kissed each the top foot in turn, lightly, before moving his mouth to each ankle, and then up her calves. 

Her dress, thanks to their movements, was already bunched around her knees, and he pushed it back to her hips, revealing her thighs, which he attacked with abandon. There was one little yellow mark, half way up her left thigh already, a left over from the night before he went on vacation. He worried with his white teeth, before giving it a twin on the right. 

He kissed each each hip bone next, and she tipped back so he could stand back up and lave up her stomach, pushing her dress up as he went, much more careful with it then either of them were with his clothing. 

Then he pulls her back up and pulls her dress all the way over her head, folding it neatly and placing it on the floor with a care he hasn’t shown his own clothing. 

It was only when she was out of her dress that she remembered that she hadn’t been planning on seeing her boyfriend tonight and certainly hadn’t been planning on sleeping with anyone. So instead of anything delicate and lacy, she had on nude shapewear, and less of a bra and more of tan plastic cups that were meant hold her breasts and dress in place. They were just the kind of thing you used for photo shoots and movies, and just the kind of thing you didn’t want a man to see, for fear of losing the mystique. 

Jon had seen her in any manner of things, party dresses and conservative pantsuits and ratty t-shirts and fuzzy bunny slippers, hair a mess and make up wiped clean. But this was different. The handsome man was supposed to slip the the designer dress off and reveal black lingerie underneath.

She held her breath, but Jon didn’t seem to notice. His gaze in the low light still hungry, still appreciative. He slipped her panties down her legs, and then peeled the plastic bra off. Setting them down on top of her dress. 

Then he returned his attention to her thighs, nipping at the red marks already blooming there but he didn’t linger. 

His fingers parted her outer lips, and he planted open mouthed kisses all over her cunt, from slit to clit, and back again, dipping further down on the return trip to plant a quick kiss on her proper backside. 

Sansa’s hands struggled for purchase and he finally dipped his tongue inside of her. It had been months. He had done this a truly impressive countless times, and still everytime it shocked her with the pure pleasure for the sensation. She grabbed his hair because she couldn’t not, tugging the brown strands through her fingers. 

He had good hair, short and straight but thick and the perfect color. The thought was cut off by his teeth scraping lightly on her inner lips and her breath hitched. She could feel the slick dripping out of her, and could feel Jon’s tongue licking it up. She could feel the heat coiling low, could feel the tingle at the base of her spine, the buzz where Jon’s lips met her own. 

And then he licked a long line straight to her clit and alternated between sucking on the hood, and flicking it with his tongue. 

The low burning pleasure grew even faster, and he ground his tongue directly on her clit. She screamed, and her entire body clinched as she came. 

Jon lapped up more of the taste of her before standing up off his knees, licking his lips. 

Sansa stared at him through heavily hooded eyes. His pants were still on but his cock clearly hard beneath them. 

“You need to be naked,” She said matter of factly. And Jon nodded, before striping with all the efficiency of an army officer. 

Then he climbed back over her, kissing her mouth long and hard, giving her a real taste of herself. 

“What do you want tonight?” He asked, pulling back slightly. Only Jon thought cunnilingus was not a special request, but a typical part of foreplay. 

She snaked her heavy arms around his neck and pulled him in again, kissing him good and proper with tongue and teeth. “To hold you.” She said. 

He nodded, pulling away only to adjust his hard cock at her entrance, before sinking into her and down onto her again. 

They just stayed like a for a minute. Still and silent and as close as possible, before he lifted his hips to properly move within her. 

Her hands around his neck, playing with the short hair their while he swept up and down her sides. 

When the heat began to pool again, and her legs tensed, she moved her hands lower, grasping an ass cheek firmly in each hand and squeezing in time with his thrusts. Jon, in return, managed to fit a hand between them and rubbed at her clit with his thumb. 

He came before her, pumping into her with full abandon. 

She hadn’t come a second time yet, but without the distraction of his own orgasam, and instaed of resting, he doubled down. Without removing his hand, he pulled out, but giving him more space to work, playing with her nub before deciding to add fingers into her vagina proper as well. 

Her second orgasam was somehow better. 

They should have cleaned up, but instead he rolled to the side and pulled him close into his arms. 

“God, I love you.” He mumbled. 

It was the perfect thought to end the night on as she fell asleep. 

***

The sun shone brightly through the high pyramid's window and directly into Sansa eyes. Jon was wrapped around her, his face buried in her shoulder and hair, protecting him from the glare of the sun. 

Sansa glared back, and then attempted to remove herself from Jon’s arms. In response he groaned and pulled her closer. 

“Jon,” She warned, wiggling again, “Let me go, or I’m waking you up properly.” 

“I don’t mind waking up properly.” Jon mumbledled into her neck, before pushing his lips to the delicate skin behind her ear, “I can think of a lot of advantages to that.”

They were already naked, and with sluggish muscles he pulled her on top of him, mostly keeping his face buried in her hair while she groped at his half hard cock. 

They rutted and kissed, still half asleep, before coming on each others hands. And then she sat up properly, his cum sticking on her stomach, her own slick coating her thighs.

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror over the dresser. Even without the cum, she looked a mess. 

She hadn’t washed the product out of her hair or the makeup off her face last night. She hadn’t even managed to get all the bobby pins out. So everything had run together in a throually unappealing way. Her updo from the night before had retained a kind of half up state, but all the curls were pulled stringy, and all the hair spray hadn’t stopped the frizz that formed from the pillow and Jon’s eager hands. At least some of her lipstick was on Jon’s chest, and her foundation on the cotton pillows.

From her neck to her thighs love bites had bloomed. 

She glanced at Jon, who was also making his way out of bed, but keeping his eyes firmly on her. 

“Gods you’re breathtaking,” He said, coming over to her as though pulled by a string, and wrapping his arms around her again, as though they hadn’t just been sleeping curled up together. 

“I’m a mess,” She said, “I need a shower.” 

“Me too,” Jon said, “What a coincidence.” 

They did not have sex in the shower. But Jon lathered up her back, and she shampoos his hair. It occurs to her as she ran her fingers that it was shorter then it had been before he left for vacation. Maybe his sister had persuaded him to trim it before there date. It had been artfully styled last night too, in a way she didn't normally associate with Jon. He'd come straight from the army, and took great pride in his professional appearance, but if he was going to school soon, perhaps she could persuade him grow it out some.

It would be a conversation to have when she got home, along with a conversation about how she had managed to completely miss his last name for eight months. She wasn't totally sure what that meant, but it had to be addressed. 

But given the way he rub the soap into her shoulders, but didn't even try to change her mind about now having sex in the shower, she was pretty sure it was going to be ok regardless. 

Once her face was free of overnight makeup and both of there hair was fee of evidence of their previous activities, they helped each other dried off and walked back into the hotel bedroom. 

Jon went rooting through his suitcases, but Sansa frowned at her neatly folded grey dress from the night before. She really hadn't planned ahead, but she didn't want to put it back on. 

She glanced at over Jon's shoulder, and spotted a pair of jeans he wasn't taking out of his suitcase. She playfully shoved him out of the way, and grabbed for herself, pulling them on over nothing while Jon watched slightly wide eyed, passing her a belt when it the waist was a little to big. He threw on a blue button down hanging in the closet, and passed her the white oxford she requested when she spotted it. Then he grabbed an extra hanger and hung her dress up without her even having to ask. 

He really was the perfect man. 

"Do you want to order some breakfast up?" he asked as they wandered out into the sitting room of the hotel suite, "They have great food here. Or there's a restaurant a few blocks over that does good brunch." He glanced at his watch, "It's more that time, anyway."

"I'd rather go out," Sansa with a smile, before walking over to the large window overlooking the city and the sparkling bay beyond. "We haven't been on vacation together, we should have fun, go out. I’ve mostly spent the last few days shopping with mom and Rhaenys.” 

“Yeah, I’ve mostly been listening to my dad’s pitch for business school and bragging about you to Egg.” She glanced back at him, his smile was wide and beautiful. “Oh, and getting this.”

On the coffee table was the little plane brown paper bag he'd sent her a picture of earlier. "No reason to wait to give you this." He handed it to her. 

She had forgotten she'd been promised a gift, but she reached into the bag happily. She pulled out a long, flat, rectangular velvet box. A jewelry box. 

"I know you don't like being given jewelry." He said, "But when I told Egg i hadn't gotten you anything he said we had to go on an emergency jewelry run. But then I saw it and it seemed perfect." 

Sansa opened the box and gasped just a little. It was a bracelet, a platinum band set with sapphires in the shape of roses. 

"Winter roses were my mom's favorite." Jon so rarely talked about the woman who'd died when he was 10, "And they're perfect for the north, and I know you have a lot of sapphire, but they just look so pretty on you."

It was a gush of words, awkward and endreading and perfect. Like most everything about Jon. She put her arms around him, jewelry box still in hand, and kissed him deeply. 

Then Sansa clasped it around her wrist. It matched the silver earnings she hadn't taken off from the night before well. 

Jon called a car, and Sansa went rooting for the rest of her things. Sansa's clutch had wound up on a side table near the door, and one of her shoes had to be located under chair. 

The blue set off her chosen outfit well. And she matched Jon. 

A town car was waiting out a side door that Jon showed her through, and they drove off to the city through to the restaurant. 

Jon knew the driver, a lovely local who had worked for Jon's aunt for a few years and seemed pleased by all members of her family. Jon passed over his sunglasses when she squinted a little in the light. 

He opened the door for them and Jon got out first, reaching a hand to help Sansa like a gentleman (and maybe a bodyguard), but then he grasped her hand and kissed it, his thumb rubbing against her bracelet as he dropped her hand back down. He didn’t let go. As they entered the restaurant, they heard the click of camera’s and saw the flash of bulbs. 

“Damn,” Sansa muttered. 

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “I think that might be reason your parents hire bodyguards.” he said, kissing her forehead as they walked into the restaurant. “The good news is that Meereen has its own celebrities, and event the hottest Westerori socialite probably won’t sell papers here.” 

Brunch was delicious. And after a quick stop at her hotel suite to get a better bag and shoes, and arrange for her luggage to be sent to Jon’s hotel. She found herself on one of Jon’s aunt’s private beaches, and then one of her private boats. And then Sansa had discovered boat sex. Which was certainly not something special, though any fuck with Jon and Sansa was worth having. 

They order room service for dinner, and curled up together on the couch until Aegon bareled through the door, telling Jon that he had to get back out their, only to stop short when he saw them together. 

“What the hell?” 

“Egg,” Jon said, not moving, “This is Sansa Stark. I work for her parents, and we’ve been seeing each other for about ten months.” 

Aegon didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and just crumbled into one of the chairs. He gazes on intently at Sansa, eyes glancing to her wrist and her new bracelet. 

“You didn’t get her any jewelry for almost a year?” He asked, “What is the secret. How do you always do shit like this with women. And if you say going down on them again, I won’t take you out tonight.”

“Going down on them,” Jon said immediately. Aegon just scoffed. 

“What did Rey say?” 

“I haven’t seen Rey since she abandoned me to my fate yesterday.” Jon said. “But if you see her next before I do, feel free to tell her for me. It will save me the time.” 

Aegon just laughed, and then proceeded to tell them all about the spot _to be_ tonight in Meereen. Somehow he managed to persuade them to go. 

Sansa had never been out with Jon like this. He’d accompanied her and Arya a few times, of course, but they didn’t go out together like this. 

Aegon got them all into the VIP section of the club deemed _it_ , and then promptly disappeared, but not before opening a tab for them with his credit card, leaving she and Jon to drink their fill and dance together under the strobe lights until nearly dawn. 

By the time they woke up the next day, once again naked and tangled together on Jon’s bed, though this time with the forsite to close the curtain before closing their eyes there was something like 15 missed texts and half as many missed calls on her phone. From her mother and Jeyne and Myranda and Margery. 

But Arya’s included the link to a Westerosi gossip site and a headline that read _Targaryen Heir and Northern Model Secret Foreign Getaway_. With several pictures of she and Jon outside brunch the day before, holding hands. Her bracelet well on display. 

Under the link, Arya had written only one thing. _**Explain**_. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. After over a decade writing fic, and at the ripe old age of 25, this is the first thing I've ever published with smut. I feel like a real fangirl now. 
> 
> Also the moral might be that you should only date in your social sphere. No idea where that came from. Sorry


End file.
